This piece, by Rusty Garner Smith, is one of the best things I’ve read the past two weeks. I share it with all of you in the hope that someone can relate, and find hope in the bleak. Truly raw, but a fulfilling read.
I could hear my Step-Mother yelling and hitting my sister. The house was small. you couldn’t, not hear what was happening anywhere in it. It was an old place, put on the side of a salt water creek. When it was a new house, it was probably just a fishing shack. A place to get out of the weather.
We had a small room near the street side of the house. The house sat back 300 feet off of the road. The three of us shared the same bedroom, and my step-mother and my dad had the other bedroom. Their room was at the view end of the place, with a big picture window looking out at the creek, and Mt. Tamalpais. The mountain was only a mile away to its base, and rose to a height of 2571 feet.
We had been in that house now for over a…
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